


Close Enough To Lose

by narglesoup



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Napping, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse, i'm SOFT, in progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-07-09 16:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narglesoup/pseuds/narglesoup
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley celebrate their newfound freedom from the bureaucracy of heaven and hell.





	1. Finally, the Beginning.

Aziraphale and Crowley walk side by side through Berkeley Square, having just had the most wonderful meal at the Ritz. Aziraphale felt lighter than he had felt in a long while, having freed himself from heaven and all its expectations. He wasn’t thinking about the future, what may or may not happen to him now he’d…defected. He hadn’t _fallen,_ necessarily. He didn’t know if there was even a word for what had happened. Crowley had barely left his side all day, and had been the one to suggest dinner at the Ritz, followed by an evening stroll. Aziraphale with all his barriers of defence slowly unravelling, had happily agreed.

They had talked, and laughed, and drank a few glasses of wine. The meal at the Ritz had been exquisite, both Crowley and Aziraphale had been infinitely more relaxed around each other than they ever had. At the end of the square they approached Crowleys Bentley, which gleamed in the low evening sunset, not a scratch in sight. No sign of having been very much on fire just over 24 hours ago.

“Fancy a lift home?” Crowley offered.

“Oh well, if you don’t mind. It’s not far from here, really.” Aziraphale said, not really wanting to step in the Bentley _quite_ so soon. He had his reasons.

“I’ll walk you home, then.” Crowley insisted.

Aziraphale gladly took him up on the offer, and so they strolled down the street, taking in the evening glow. It had indeed been a wonderful evening. They walked slowly, as if reluctant for the evening to end.

When they reached the door of the bookshop, Aziraphale paused, “Well, this is me.” He said, as if Crowley didn’t know.  
“Mhm,” Crowley nodded, pausing, “I’ll be off then?” He said, not moving from the spot. Crowley was eyeing him fixedly, as if Aziraphale was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. 

Aziraphale blinked, unable to read Crowley’s expression. He didn’t want Crowley to leave quite so soon, the thought of being alone night, after everything that had happened made his heart sink a little.

“Okay…goodnight then.” Aziraphale said, not moving from that spot either.

Aziraphale regarded him for a moment… _Please Stay_. He thought. _Don’t leave me tonight_.

Crowley turned away ever so slightly, but something inside Aziraphale compelled him to reach out, taking Crowley by the cuff, pulling Crowley back.

“Wha-?” Crowley’s words were cut short, quickly realising what Aziraphale was doing.

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close, his lips quickly finding their way to meet the fallen angel’s. Crowley made a shocked noise, swallowed back in his throat, but then returned the kiss with equal passion, bending ever so slightly into the kiss. The moment passed as quickly as it had started, and the two found themselves standing, dumfounded, breathing heavily. Crowley was watching him, looking equally shaken and _was he blushing?_

Aziraphale was trembling, but quickly regained his posture. He swallowed, “You’re welcome to come in… fancy a cup of tea? Coffee?”

Crowley was dazed, and simply nodded, following the angel inside the bookshop, and then up the stairs to the flat above.

Aziraphale fumbled around in the kitchen and returned after a few minutes with perfectly brewed earl grey for himself and builders tea for Crowley. Crowley took the tea politely.

They both sipped their tea quietly on the sofa. Aziraphale shifted uncomfortably, it had suddenly dawned on him what had just happened, had one moment of weakness ruined everything? He was not used to expressing himself quite so outwardly. He’d always tried to be reserved, fitting in very well with the British stereotype.

He turned to Crowley, catching a glimpse of his expression which was yet again, unreadable.

“Oh, I do hope we’ve not ruined our friendship, Crowley.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows, noticeable over his dark sunglasses, he looked at Aziraphale for a minute before eventually saying “Friendship? Really? Have we not been dating for 1000s of years already?”

“D…dating?” Aziraphale said incredulously, almost choking on his tea.

“Yes, dating!” Crowley said insistently, “What do you call this evening? Was that not a date?”

Aziraphale stared, aghast.

“I mean, we’ve never called it that. We couldn’t, not before… all that business with the antichrist.” Crowley continued. He removed his sunglasses, the look in his orange-yellow eyes sincere, “Surely, Angel, you knew I had warm feelings for you.”

Aziraphale melted, as he always did when he saw Crowley’s eyes. Would it not be hypocritical for him to deny his feelings now… especially now heaven and hell were no longer looking over their shoulders? He remembered what he had said all those years ago. _You go too fast for me Crowley_. How he had wanted then to just run away with Crowley, start a life together, away from everything. It had been impossible, then, but now… with everything having changed so much…

“Crowley, I…” he swallowed, struggling with his feelings, for so long he had hidden them away as best he could. Never acting on his feelings towards the fallen angel. They had known each other since the very beginning. They had a history, always finding each other no matter what. Crowley had saved Aziraphale many a time - not only from dis-corporation, but from loneliness… from himself. And after all of that, they had faced off the worst of Heaven and Hell together.

His feelings towards Crowley were ineffable. But he couldn’t say it out loud, not quite yet.

“… me too.” Crowley said, the words that were unsaid hung in the air around them.

Aziraphale looked down and found his fingers were intertwined with Crowley’s. He wondered how that had happened, but it didn’t matter who had reached out first – neither of them were letting go.

“ _Oh._ ” Aziraphale sighed _._ The penny finally dropping.

Crowley reached forwards and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek, feeling the Angel’s soft stubble. The warm evening sun flooded the room, making it look as if the two ethereal beings were glowing. Aziraphale gazed into the intense, curious eyes he had always adored, twinkling as they caught the sun.

His heart hammered heavily in his chest, and in an instant their lips found each other once more. Crowley breathed heavily into the kiss, his hands now running through Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley, wanting him, needing him close, feeling Crowley completely melt into his arms. They both completely list their composure, trembling hands wandering as they continued to taste each other – all sweet and milky from the tea.

After a while, their lips pulled apart, and Crowley curled up and rested his head on Aziraphale’s chest, just needing a moment to regain his breath.

Aziraphale breathed out shakily, stroking his hand through Crowley’s hair. It felt so good to be close, to feel the weight of another. He would happily stay like this forever. After a moment, Aziraphale steadied his breath as much as he could, “Stay the night?”

Crowley spluttered, the very same look on his face as when Aziraphale had told him he’d given the sword away, “And you say _I_ move too fast.”

After a moment, they took themselves to the bedroom. With a quick miracle, they were both clad in pyjamas. Aziraphale in a pastel, two-piece tartan affair. Crowley in black silky shorts. They eyed one another’s choices for a moment, and then climbed into bed, where they fell once more into each-other’s arms, gently kissing until they eventually fell asleep, exhausted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I've not read the books (but intend to soon) so don't come for me for any mistakes. I'm currently obsessed with this show and needed to get this out of my system. I have some ideas for more chapters, possibly involving quite a lot of angst which I also thrive on. Stay tuned!


	2. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever had a nap that changed your life?

The sun dawned that next morning. Crowley stirred first. There was a moment where he forgot himself ever so slightly, not quite knowing where he was. He knew he wasn’t home, just by the feeling of cotton sheets where he had silk. Crowley was no stranger to waking up in strange places. It had happened before. Those times where he’d had perhaps had a few too many, gone on a bender, and ended up in a strangers house – or, more often than not, a ditch somewhere. Such an event was quickly remedied, as he would instantly sober up and get on with his deeds of the day.

But he knew, before even opening his eyes, that this time was _different_. He could feel the gentle weight of something… someone… gently pressing against him. His mind quickly reeled back the events of last night. The perfect date he'd had, the perfect kiss. The warmth had gushed over him in waves, both last night and right now. 

He could feel the angel breathing in and out next to him. One arm was curled up on top of Crowley, almost as to stop him from drifting away. Crowley felt inexplicably safe. Crowley closed his eyes, careful not to move as to not disturb the angel. Crowley took a deep breath in, and out. Counting his blessings… which amounted to exactly one (1) – Aziraphale. For once his reality was better than his own imagination of reality.

Crowley also noted, privately to himself, how much of a good kisser Aziraphale had been. He wondered for a moment if it was an Angel thing, or an Aziraphale thing. Had he practiced? Who on Earth would he have practiced on? Crowley felt a sense of pride and jealousy thinking that Aziraphale may have been practicing kissing with someone other than him. There was a lot he didn’t know about Aziraphale, but there would be time for that.

Crowley still couldn’t quite believe that 6000 years of pining, yearning, that ache he felt every time he was close to Aziraphale – that that feeling had been returned so enthusiastically and so fully.

_It only took a bloody Apocalypse for us to get there._

Crowley carefully shifted a little in the bed, wanting to get closer to Aziraphale. Aziraphale mumbled something and turned around in the bed, facing away from Crowley. Crowley felt a pang of longing, watching the sleepy Angel move away ever so slightly, with creased skin on his cheek from where he had laid. He looked so cosy, almost swallowed up by the bed.

Crowley sighed, and sat up ever so slightly, careful not to wake him, and smiled to himself knowing he'd made the right choice. Crowley reached out and gently tucked a rogue curl behind Aziraphale’s ear. _When did your hair get so long? 6000 years of the same short cut and now you’re letting go?_

He was then overcome with the temptation to kiss the angel on the forehead, which he then did. Aziraphale did not awake but let out a small sigh. If you had asked Crowley if his heart had melted in that moment, he would have aggressively denied it.

Crowley then stole himself after a moment and then gingerly climbed out if the bed, tip toeing around the bed towards the direction of the loo. Crowley laughed to himself, looking at the various books stacked on shelves and on the floor, likely overspill from the bookshop downstairs – or more likely books he didn’t quite want to part with just yet. Aziraphale’s humanity only made him more endearing.

Crowley did his business in the loo, and then opted to splash some water in his face. He looked at his reflection, wondering whether to grow his hair out again. But then again, he quite liked the stick-y up-y, fresh out of bed look he currently had going on. He ran his hand through it, sticking it up even more. He hoped Aziraphale liked it like that.

Once finished, he re-entered the bedroom, promptly tripping on a few books which were stacked near the door, sending them crashing.

“Ah! Shit!” Crowley swore as he stumbled around the bedroom. Crowley hastily restacked the books, knowing they probably meant a lot to the angel. He then straightened and approached the bed, and found Aziraphale beginning to wake, his sleepy half-opened blue eyes now following Crowley.

Crowley hesitated for a moment, feeling suddenly out of place, “Uh, sorry about that.” He looked at Aziraphale, wanting to kiss him again, but not knowing if he was pushing his luck.

Aziraphale mumbled something unintelligible, before reaching out an arm which then pulled Crowley back into bed with him, bringing him under the covers and spooning him. Crowley felt the warmth of the angel spread through his limbs; the cold bathroom having sapped away most of the warmth he’d had. He heard Aziraphale sigh behind him, and then shuffled closer into Crowley, the angel’s stomach pressing softly into his back.

Angels and demons were not known for sleep, although as they had human bodies they felt it best to keep up appearances, and besides, after a few weeks or months of not sleeping, the human bodies started to react quite badly, with dry, blood shot eyes, dark under eye bags, and a general ache throughout the body that wasn’t meant to be used for quite so long without rest. There was a certain pleasure to sleep that non-corporeal angels, such as the Archangel Gabriel, just wouldn’t be able to understand. Aziraphale had spent his years carefully cultivating the little comforts in life. Comforts such as the pleasures of food, and clothes, of cosy coffee shops and walks in the sunlight. Crowley to a lesser extent, often opting to go quite a while without sleep, feeling undeserving of such a thing. But like any other corporeal form, eventually it would catch up with him – once in the form of a 100 year long nap, although boredom had been a main factor in this rather than the pleasure of sleep – the 19th century had been fairly dull after all. Admittedly, he couldn’t deny the very human pleasure of a good morning slash, or a good rock ballad, or the good company of a friend.

He hadn’t slept since the arrival of the antichrist 11 years ago and had persevered without sleep quite well through endless cups of coffee and willpower. But surrendering to sleep, in the arms of Aziraphale… felt _right._

Aziraphale’s breath slowed once more as he drifted back into a restful sleep. Crowley once again surrendered in his arms, he himself quickly dozing off once more as he basked in the angel’s warmth.

____

Crowley awoke to an empty room. A quick glance at the clock told him it was either 6am or 6pm, the dim light floating through the curtains not giving him much in the way of clues. How long had been asleep? Hours? Days? He felt around the bed for signs of Aziraphale, but the bed was empty, and there was no trace of warmth left over.

Panic began to rise in his chest. Where was his angel? Visions of fires, of books burning, the smell of charcoal and sulphur. It was a very real possibility that someone… anyone from either side… had taken Aziraphale away, or worse.

“Angel?!” Crowley shouted, scrambling to his feet. He ran to the bathroom, to the kitchen and lounge.

No sign of him.

Crowley ran downstairs. The bookshop was how they had left it. There was no fire. No unbearable heat and smell of charcoal and sulphur. Nevertheless, the panic failed to subside. Crowley realised he was still in a state of undress, so clicked his fingers once more so that he was dressed in his usual black jacket and skinny jeans. He steadied himself, focusing his energies on _Finding_ Aziraphale. He had his ways of detecting the angel when he was in danger. He could sense nothing.

 _So, he’s either completely fine, or dis-corporated._ Crowley thought. He know, deep down, it would be the former, but what if he was wrong? He began pacing in the shop, not knowing what to do.

The door opened, and the shop bell rang. “Aziraphale?” Crowley said hopefully. But alas, it was just a customer. Crowley screamed at them to leave, watching as the terrified shopper ran from the shop.

This happened a couple more times, each time spinning around expecting to see Aziraphale, and then not. Each time Crowley became even more frustrated, screaming at them to leave. He couldn’t stop his mind thinking of every single possibility, thinking of all the ways both heaven or hell could torture or kill his angel. He didn’t even want to get started on thinking of what the humans could have done to him.

After about half an hour, the door opened once more. Crowley was about to scream at whoever it was once more, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Aziraphale. He was carrying a handful of shopping bags, making them look deceptively light.

He smiled brightly at Crowley, “Aah, there you are!”

“Where have you been?!” Crowley yelled, “I’ve been worried sick.”

Aziraphale’s face fell slightly, “Just thought I’d pop for some milk.” He said innocently, “and a few other things.” Crowley looked, and it seemed that Aziraphale and bought some decent looking wine and cheese, as well as some other tasty treats. “Did you not see my note?”

“A note?” Crowley said, voice cracking.

“I left it on the fridge dear.” Aziraphale replied, he lowered the bags to the floor, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m always okay.” Crowley replied, looking away, “I just thought you…” _just thought you’d been killed or worse._

“My dear, you’re crying.” Aziraphale said, stepping forwards, “I’m ever so sorry to worry you. I just didn’t want to disturb you, you looked so peaceful when I left.”

Aziraphale gently wiped the tears away, blotting the fallen angel’s face with a handkerchief. Crowley made no move to stop him.

“My dear,” Aziraphale sighed, his gaze lingering, “I think we should talk.”

Crowley shifted back a little, “I suppose we must.”

Aziraphale smiled again, “But not until we’ve had a spot of tea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone to commented and left kudos, you all motivated me to continue writing this fic! I'm hoping to post weekly when possible <3  
> It is important to note that Aziraphale's hair now resembles Michael Sheen, curly and bouncy (but blond)
> 
> My tumblr is doyoubelieveinnargles <3


	3. Enlightenment

Aziraphale busied himself with cups and teabags as he waited for the kettle to boil. Crowley was leaning, shoulders hunched, over the kitchen counter. He’d removed the note which had been stuck onto the fridge, written in Aziraphale’s looping handwriting:

“ _My dear, just popped to the shops for milk, won’t be long, AZ_ ”

Crowley stared at it. Although his dark sunglasses were on, Aziraphale could tell he was still upset. He could always tell when Crowley was upset, glasses or not. The glasses had always been a means of protection for Crowley. It worked most of the time, with other demons for example, and the casual human walking by. But Aziraphale knew it was no coincidence that Crowley had begun to wear the glasses after the crucifixion. Everything had been so much harder after that.

Crowley sank down to the floor with a smoothness that could only be described as snake like, the note crumpling in his hands. He brought his knees up and rested his back against the kitchen cabinets. He looked small, and tired.

Aziraphale knew he’d get to the bottom of it, and used the tools he had to hand, which included the firm British belief that a good cuppa will solve pretty much any problem. And to the British people’s credit, it often did.

Aziraphale expertly brewed the tea, swirling a lump of sugar into the cup before passing it to Crowley. Crowley silently took the tea and cupped it in his hands for warmth.

“Thanks,” said the demon, sounding strained.

“Whatever’s the matter dear?” Aziraphale said worriedly, kneeling next to Crowley.

Crowley simply shook his head, not wanting to speak for fear he wouldn’t be able to hold back the flood of emotions he had successfully bottled up until this point.

“Right, let’s get these things off, you don’t need them with me.” Aziraphale said calmly, and before Crowley could protest the angel reached up and removed the glasses, revealing the beautiful yellow–orange of Crowley’s eyes, which were brimming with tears, “ah, there you are.” Aziraphale said gently as he disarmed the demon, carefully folding the glasses and placing them on the side. He gave Crowley a gentle squeeze on the arm, at which Crowley then let out a barely audible sob.

Odd, how a small display of kindness can reduce someone to tears, especially when that someone has been trying desperately to hold themselves together. Demons didn’t cry, but he’d never been a competent demon anyway.

Aziraphale waited for Crowley to steady himself enough to speak.

“I thought,” Crowley said, barely able to get the words out, he knew he sounded ridiculous, “I just thought I lost you again.” Crowley broke as he said these words, he was usually so good at keeping his guard up around Aziraphale, he was usually the strong one, but now that everything had changed between them, ever since the Armageddon that didn’t happen, _and last night, when they’d finally kissed and everything had changed_.

The Angel wrapped his arms around Crowley bringing him close, and let the demon sob on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, Aziraphale muttering gentle reassurances, the demon further melting with his warmth, “I’m not leaving you, my love.”

“I’d be lost without you Angel,” Crowley confessed, this wasn’t just about today, they both knew this went so much deeper than a little misunderstanding today – it was that thousands of years of bottled emotions had finally been given permission to come out, and once the dam had been broken there was seemingly no stopping to it, “I’d be… s– so broken without you, angel.”

“I’m here my dear boy.” Aziraphale murmured stroking Crowley’s back reassuringly, “I’m not leaving you my love.” He kissed Crowley on the forehead, his own heart breaking as he did so.

Crowley shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the kitchen tiles.

“I always lived recklessly,” Crowley said, after a while, “because I thought, there’s nothing I could lose that I hadn’t lost already. They couldn’t do anything worse to me than already had been done to me.” Crowley closed his eyes, the fall from Heaven had been devastating to say the least, and the pain had been blinding, so much so that he sometimes still felt like he was burning. In a time when ‘pain’ hadn’t even been invented yet, nothing could have prepared him from the agony of his fall from Grace; the severed connection between himself and Her forever lost. He’d been special, once. He’d had a purpose, helping to create the universe. Crowley shook his head, the memories all too vivid. He’d tell Aziraphale all about it one day, maybe when it hurt a little less to think about.

“So, I tried… I tried to make the most out of being a fallen one. I told myself I was free now, from the dogma of it all – all those strict rules. I was free to do what I wanted, consort with whomever I liked. So, I roamed the earth, causing a little havoc here and there, nothing truly devastating, and yet I convinced Hell I was doing a great job for 6000 years.” Crowley grinned a little through his tears, “and _fuck_ , I met _you here_ , and you were _different_ , _special,_ I couldn’t keep myself away from you.”

He glanced sideways at Aziraphale, gauging the angel’s reaction, Aziraphale had been listening intently at this point, but blushed a little at this.

“The Garden.” Aziraphale murmured. He’d remembered the look Crowley (then Crawley) had given him, of complete amazement and admiration on learning the angel had done something truly selfless by giving the sword away, something that was unheard of amongst celestial beings, usually opting to play by strict rules or else risk being cast out. Crowley had comforted him, even then, when Aziraphale had worried he’d done the wrong thing.

“I’d tricked the lot of them,” Crowley continued, “and I was happy enough, or as happy as I could be as a demon. I had made a life for myself as far away from prying eyes as I could. And _then_ I thought, fuck it, maybe I like on earth enough to defend it – to stop the apocalypse. What did I have to lose, really? I thought, what else could they possibly do to me that hadn’t already been done?”

Crowley paused, sipping his now luke–warm tea. He glanced up at Aziraphale, “But _then_ ,” Crowley continued, gritting his teeth, “then they went for the one thing I actually cared about. And that hurt a whole crap ton more than the lot of it put together. I would rather burn for an eternity than live a life without you, Angel.”

Aziraphale hesitated, “Well dear, it wasn’t actually heaven, or hell, that discorporated me, it was more of an accident, really.”

“It doesn’t matter who, angel. It happened, didn’t it? Not being able to find you, the bookshop burning – it was all too much for me. My imagination, the only thing I really have going for me (apart from my dazzling good looks), would only think of the endless possibilities of what could have happened to you. Who needs Beelzebub when my own mind can do a perfectly good job at torturing itself?”

“I– I wouldn’t leave you,” Aziraphale protested, “I wouldn’t let that happen dear, I would, I _did_ , find my way back to you.”

Crowley shook his head, “…and, and if we hadn’t switched places the other night you would have been dead.” Crowley said, gritting his teeth, “and all because of me, and my recklessness.”

“My dear–,”

“I’m reckless, and selfish, angel. I’m a poison.”

“No, Crowley!”

“I AM, angel, just look around,” Crowley gestured vaguely around the room, “I have ruined your life, I’ve ruined you. You’re stuck here, with me, and _who knows when they’ll return for us._ I’m surprised you never got caught earlier, if heaven hadn’t had their heads so far up their arses, they could have cast you out or killed you hundreds of years ago.”

“Listen, Crowley, please just look at me,” Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s chin in his perfectly manicured hand, steadying his gaze so that the demon could see he was being serious, “I want you to listen to me right now. You just said yourself, there’s no need to torture yourself when there are real demons out there.”

Crowley opened his mouth to interject, but Aziraphale continued, his voice calm but firm, “Let me begin with a rhetorical question dear: Do you really take me for a fool?” Crowley’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, “Now, what’s that saying… ah yes, it takes two to tango.” Crowley should have cringed at this, but Aziraphale’s touch had him in a daze.

“How dare you blame yourself for everything when I was just as involved as you were? I agreed to the arrangement. I agreed fully knowing the terms and the potential consequences for us if ever we were found out. I have, _willingly,_ mind you, performed a fair few temptations in my time,” Aziraphale’s lips cracked into a small smile at this, “I always knew what I was getting into. But never _once_ did I think that it wouldn’t be worth it. Because I always figured that well, this life wouldn’t be living if it weren’t for the odd pleasures, the quaint restaurants, without poetry or plays with twisted characters. You never tempted me so much as enlightened me.” Aziraphale grinned with that _bastard_ look in his eyes that said _"corrupt me, I beg you"_.

Crowley simply stared at Aziraphale, leaning in unwittingly. He knew what Aziraphale was saying to be true, but hearing him say it loud and unwaveringly stirred something in him, he pulled Aziraphale close to him and kissed the angel on the forehead, running his fingers through soft curls, he cupped the angels chin and brought their lips together, tasting Aziraphale like a fine wine. When their lips eventually parted Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and murmured, “But you were scared, you were terrified and I always tried to push things…”

Aziraphale stroked the back of Crowley’s head reassuringly, “Yes, dear, of course I was scared. I feared getting caught, but I was scared for you as well Crowley, I saw myself as a danger to you just as much as you saw yourself a danger to me. I knew one splash of holy water and you’d be gone forever. Heavens, at first I was even scared to share the same air with you in case it burned you to breathe. But… that day when you walked into the church, even though it hurt you, and saved me – that was when I realised that I–”

Aziraphale stopped, pulling back a little so he could look at Crowley’s beautiful face, and gazed into Crowley’s wide eyes, “That _I loved you,_ Crowley. Because, the lengths you were willing to go to for me were, well, ineffable…” Crowley stared, mouth gaping open unwittingly, and Aziraphale smirked, reaching out to cup Crowley’s chin, “and, maybe,” Aziraphale whispered, “maybe a little poison was just what I needed.”

Aziraphale went in to kiss the now blushing Crowley.

“S– say that again,” Crowley said, barely catching his breath, “say you l– lo–“

Aziraphale kissed him and kissed him, gladly obliging Crowley’s disjointed request and breathed, “ _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you_ ”, in between kisses, the words flowing more and more naturally as he became used to the taste of the words in his mouth. The human language had not yet produced a word to encompass the significance of the specific type of love that an angel has for a fallen angel, so those three words would have to do on this occasion.

He never once in his 6000 years on earth, or in his life prior to that spent in heaven, had said those three words in that sequence. He felt that each repetition may somehow make up for all the times he hadn’t been able to say it.

Hell, the reaction he was getting from Crowley was more than worth giving up heaven for.

“Angel,” Crowley whispered, breathlessly kissing Aziraphale with a newfound thirst, the love spilling out of Aziraphale was overwhelming him, be barely knew what he was doing. His legs were completely weak, good thing they were sitting on the floor.

“I– I love you too.” The demon stammered in reply, completely drunk on love that had been flowing out of the angel. Crowley had had settled on those three words because the human language had not yet produced a word to encompass the significance of the specific type of impossible love that a fallen angel, supposedly incapable of love, had for an angel.

Aziraphale gently pulled Crowley to a stand and guided him earnestly towards the bedroom. Reciprocated “ _I love you_ ”’s were muttered under their breaths as they collapsed in a heap of kisses once more.

The touch starved couple melted into each other once more, arms grasping at clothing and hair, lips crashing, discovering, and rediscovering the other in pure bliss. And yes, there would be time for them to discover the boundless ways they fit together – every infinite configuration their corporeal forms would allow. And yes, there would be time for grief, and then the hardship recovery as they rediscovered who they were after defecting from their respective factions. Recovery would be a long journey, for both of them – Crowley was not he only one with demons after all. But, for now, it was just enough to be with each other, to touch and love freely, a simple pleasure that had been denied them for 6000 years. They basked in the pleasure of having defied the lot of them, in the joy of having won, and in the pure warmth of love. Of course they knew that they would be back for them one day, that Armageddon hadn’t been prevented as much as postponed until further notice. But that didn't matter because they would happily risk everything for even one day, one hour, or even a second with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm leaving this at 3 chapters, mainly because I wanted to keep this fic on the lighter side. I do have some plans for a darker themed fic with these characters so keep an eye out for that sometime soon.  
> Thank you everyone who gave Kudos and commented, I've never had such as response from something I've written before and I've got to say it has been so encouraging!  
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr at doyoubelieveinnargles <3


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